lost 'n found & on pins waiting for needles

Mom, I lost my wallet! - This call came in from Curly, Saturday night (a week ago), moments after I'd plugged my phone into the charger in my bathroom. I'd been on the phone with Mini for almost 3 hours earlier in the evening (I read aloud in a soft whisper from my book because she claimed that my voice was calming for her and she hoped to drift off without having her heart race - things have improved for her, bur more on this ordeal later), so I was READY for bed. 

I had just texted Curly:   I hope you're coming home soon. 

*Coach and I are realizing that we haven't ever given Curly a curfew. Weird? Perks of being the youngest? Admittedly we were more 'on it' when we had kids who needed, um, more structure. I'm looking at you, Lad. Last night (a week after the night I'm sharing here), she asked what time she should be home. I said I thought she should be home by midnight, latest. 

Back to our regularly scheduled story:  She'd replied that she was down the street - her friend was dropping her off. As I was ready to dive into my comfy king size bed, my phone started to vibrate. I was like, HUH? 

Curly:  I left my wallet at Portillos (a restaurant). 

They close at midnight. It was 12:02. 

Me:  Is my credit card in there? 

Curly:  Yes, but so is MY DRIVER'S LICENSE. (ah, teen priorities)

Thanks to everything (meaning, at this stage I'm equipped to stay fairly chill), I quickly put things in perspective. DON'T PANIC. IT ISN'T THE END OF THE WORLD (but if I had to replace my cc again, well - it might be). She said her friend agreed to drive back to the restaurant. I told her to knock on Portillo's door, if they were cleaning up, they might answer (my former Burger King employee speaking). She said she was gonna call. I called too, but I figured they'd not answer the phone since they were closed.

The night manager answered the phone after I made my way through a couple of menus about orders, catering, etc. 

Night manager:  I just spoke to your daughter. I have her wallet and I'm waiting for her. She's on her way back. 

I got Ms. Night Manager's name, because I think she might be the recipient of an upcoming batch of my chocolate chip cookies. Bullet dodged.

FYI:  I called Citicard. They have a card that links to offspring cards with different numbers, so if knuckleheads teens lose their card - the main card wouldn't need to be cancelled. But, unfortunately our Citicard AA-accrues-miles card doesn't work that way. Ugh. 

*****

Poke me with a needle, please:  I usually aim to get my allergy shots the middle of the month, or certainly by the 17th at the latest. I got a text a few weeks ago that the building was closed for a situation out of their control. I wasn't due for shots. A few days later, another text:  We're involved in a lawsuit with the building owner. We have a police escort to remove vials, etc. 

What's this?

I've gotten a few more updates, saying they don't have a resolution/ aren't able to give shots yet. Welp, this is now the 20th. It isn't hay fever season, but they like to keep my levels at a certain, um, level. 

What's this? you say. It's a photo of my
island, but if you look closely towards the
 top of the photo - you'll probably
 spot my clear, easy-to-lose spectacles. 

My left eye is once again refusing to let me wear a contact lens. I've tried EVERYTHING. Tons of rewetting drops. I have two different kinds of lenses, because I ordered dailies, and then decided I was fine with regular. Both regular lenses and the daily ware ones won't work. Feel filmy/sticky in my eye.

My glasses aren't bifocals, so I can't read when I wear them. I set them down to see things close up, and then I can't find them. Embracing my inner Mr. Magoo. I hate exercising in glasses. Is the eye thing somehow related to me being overdue for allergy shots? I wore the same lens for weeks, maybe even months. And it was FINE! Then finally ordered lenses because my eye was back to normal. *sigh*

*****

Are you consistent with curfew? (consistency is my goal as a parent, because of how I was raised, so I'm kicking myself, BUT the older kids are none the wiser/aren't complaining) Or did you have a curfew when you were a teen? Have you ever lost a wallet and had a kind person turn it in/keep it safe for you?  Do you plan to watch the ND vs Ohio State game tonight? Who are you rooting for? 

can you believe there's more to: These ARE my monkeys? Circus updates, take 2

 Teen fake news:  When the kid car keys were initially reported lost - Yes, I'm still talking about that, Curly announced that Gray (the kid car) was parked on the driveway directly behind GW (the 12 seater van) that was in the garage. If we believed her, which in the moment I DID, then the vacationing-in-Milwaukee key had disabled TWO cars, leaving us with only the minivan. Note worthy:  Before Tank left, we had a fleet of 4 cars. Could we really be down to 1 car? 

Fortunately, Curly is a silly 17 year old with less driving abilities than most other humans, or she's worse at math and angles than I want to admit . Thank goodness for fake blog names, so this doesn't impact her future college acceptances. 

My superpower:  I maneuvered GW out of the garage without even coming close to sideswiping Gray, and without driving on the grass. I could probably have removed GW from the garage with one eye closed and one arm tied behind my back, and maybe even with my neighbor Mary Ann positioned in a way that made her an easy target (whoa, this is going off the rails, of course I'd never want to put Mary Ann in harm's way). 

Sorry, for bragging about my 12-seater driving abilities. Don't be jealous, the gas tank flap thingie doesn't stay shut, the seats are full of tears, and the rust is threatening to become the dominant color scheme. But, I can maneuver it down the driveway around a car that's stuck there because of 

the missing key better than a teenager, which proves nothing.

Unrelated, but this is a baby on a video monitor. She was so excited to learn to stand up that she decided it was silly to sit down ever again. So she fell asleep STANDING up in her pack and play. (I did go in there a dozen times and lay her down, but she'd pop right back up while sobbing, not grasping that it was a her problem).

Where's the beef money? Although I fear the story of me leaving money in the ATM machine might implicate me in the Where's Mini's $70 Christmas money from Nana Saga, I still insist it was not misplaced by me. It hasn't been found, but I did save 3 bags of wrapping paper/paper garbage that I've unearthed in the living room and intend to go thru. When? In my spare time, of course. This discovery was made during my ever so enjoyable post-packing-Mini clean up. I've been tackling her castoffs since she departed for Florence last week. (update on Mini coming soon. It's not been easy, thanks, Anxiety issues. I've opted not to share here as these are funny, ha, ha stories. Mini's phone calls fall into a different category. I think the worst is over and I believe she's making progress).

Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas, Hey Mom & Dad, I lost my copy of your credit card a week ago:  Reg shared with us on Christmas Eve as we were stuffing stockings (K and R had just gone to bed and the older gang was prepping to watcha movie) that he hasn't seen his copy of our credit card since he attended the ND vs IU game on Dec. 20th. Our kids who drive and still reside under our roof have a copy of our credit card in case of emergency/fill cars with gas. I've not cancelled the card. I can't bring myself to request a new card for a 3rd time in 6 months. As of now, the account doesn't show anything unusual. Unbelievable. 

Are you great at backing up big ass vehicles around multiple cars on a driveway? Do you have other super powers? Believe it or not, I cut another bit about a lost wallet? Feel free to take guesses on who lost a whole wallet and whether or not it was recovered. Have you ever gotten so tired that you forgot to just lay down?

this IS my circus & these ARE my monkeys

My prayers are with the many people impacted by the fires in California. How

A beautiful winter sunset
from my driveway.

horrendous. I find my life chaotic from time to time (see below), but my heart goes out to these people. I cannot imagine dealing with that kind of loss and upheaval. 

*****

As the title indicates - this is what my people are up to, whether it be laughable or mind blowing. This is us. I've included the answers to the cliff hangers I alluded to in a post last week.

Keyless entry, unfortunately not a thing:  On Jan 1st, Tank drove to Milwaukee, as he does every year over break. He attended the Creighton vs Marquette basketball game on the 2nd. He'd return on the 3rd. His friend from college lives in Mil, and his wonderfully fun parents host dozens of college kids for the game. It's a great time. Last year the game was on my birthday, and I was only half-kidding when I joked that I wanted to score an invite. The hostess, Moe, and I graduated from the same college, but she's young and probably more fun than me. I enjoy she and her husband so much. 

A few hours or so after Tank drove to Milwaukee, when we couldn't find the sole remaining key to the kid car (the gray car), we all took turns hollering at Reg. Well, not Coach, because he was sick in his bed. I think I yelled more because Coach was sick in bed and I was juggling a lot and irritated. 

I unearthed these artsy
mermaid drawings
when going through
 a drawer while
cleaning out
Mini and Curly's
 desk. I miss these
simple days. 

(If you're thinking, Poor Reg - the kid doesn't remember stuff and we were all on his case, you would be justified). 

*Flashback to the fall:  Reg is the one who lost the other Gray car key on a Friday night when he was at ND for a football game in the fall. Coach and I awoke to Reg's text that Saturday morning:  Bring the extra set of keys. We were heading to South Bend anyway, so we brought the spare set. The lost set has never been found. Grrr. 

Silver lining:  Thank goodness he lost the keys at ND, because he'd driven to Michigan State (much farther from home, and not a place I'd be likely to show up with a backup key) the weekend before in the same car to see a friend. 

Back to present day, or Jan 1st specifically:  I finally said, Hmm, I wonder if Tank might have taken the keys to Mil with him? Well, when I texted him, Tank was at a bar without his coat. He'd left Tex (the car) at his friend's house, so he couldn't check his pocket or the car itself. I got a text from him in the wee hours. Yep, he found the key in his coat. He was very remorseful. 

I'm used to the nonsense, so I was just relieved the key was found. 

Silver lining:  The day after Tank got home, I sent him to the Kia dealer to order another key, since this was not the first key issue with Tank (I still shudder at the chaos of the breakfast dorm tailgate at ND right before Christmas). Two sets of keys for a car - progress.   

Tank:  Did you listen to my voice mail message? I got this text from Tank the morning when he was due home. I'd been crossing my fingers that he'd be home early, so we could stop mapping out which of our 5 drivers were going where as we juggled the minivan and GW. While on the stationary bike, I listened to this message. He'd called after 1 am. Oh, brother stitches. 

His voice was like a Chocolate Bourbon Tart. It was infused with alcohol. He is 22, and he's been managing adult beverages fine ever since his fraternity awarded him with the 'mix in a water' award freshman year and he made the mistake of admitting that to me. In hindsight, he admitted to a few missteps that lead to him being overserved. He left one bar, um, not necessarily by choice, and when he got to the bar across the street, he saw Ethan, a friend of a friend he hadn't seen since he'd studied abroad.

Tank picked Ethan up in a bear hug, spun him around, and when he fell (as we all knew he would) he hit his head, and ended up in the ER where his friends took him, so he could get 4 stitches to the tune of lots of moola. 

Silver lining:  It could've been worse.

Plus, Tank was really hard on himself, and he and I talked at length about how he can have fun with friends without misbehaving. He thinks there was a medication issue, as in - he messed up the timing which he's never done.

Due to the hours spent at the ER, his arrival home was NOT in the morning. Of course. 

My high school bestie sent me this cartoon
 in my birthday card. The chickens in the
 background are talking about the fancy
birds. "Their house is full of shit and
 feathers just like the rest of us."
Our house is full of stitches
and lost keys, how about yours? 

Fun fact:  Tank has received stitches/glued parts of his head/face/leg in place, more than any of our offspring. I think his tally is 4, while Mini is at 1, and the others are at zero. 

If I was offering a prize, I'd reward Suz with 1st place for guessing that Coach got stitches falling out of our new, enormous King size bed. Hee hee. Well played, Suz. 

In other news, I insisted that the 8 billion apple keychains that I gifted my goofballs for Christmas were installed left and right after the missing key episode. I'm thinking this 'my circus/my monkeys' theme might be a new regular feature here. 

Any interesting updates on your circus/monkeys? Or is life all serenity and relaxation in your neck of the woods?

Distract me, will you? ATM to the rescue, & no drizzling on the b-day boy

More ALMOST lost money:  A few weeks ago, I ran into the bank to make a deposit and withdraw some cash. This branch is so close to my house and it's new, but shortly after they built it, they closed the drive up window. What? Yeah, I get that, the hell with convenience, right? Now I have to get out of my car and walk inside to use one of the kiosks that are scattered around the inside. It's weird, futuristic banking I guess. (Noteworthy, perhaps:  there is an ATM still available in the drive up lanes, but I am a tad leery of depositing checks thru that machine, is it just me? Dear God, did I just turn 80 and not 54?)

AnyWHO, the machine wasn't reading a check and I asked a banker for help. (there are no tellers, just a few people in offices who seem busy, I guess). Well, that lead to him helping me download an app on my iPhone in order to deposit this check. 

Do I care that this guy probably thinks I'm an idiot for not already having the app? Nope. (I tried to 'splain how I just graduated to a new phone and how my older-than-dirt phone didn't like apps, but he was committed to his sales pitch. I think he missed the day at sales school about engaging with the customer. It's fine, as that might've lead to me describing my Walmart Family Mobile issue and that is a long-ass story). 

He proceeded to explain his background with the bank, and what services he could sell me, and do we have an investment person, and even though we do - you can always use more of this, etc., etc. 

I was thinking about how there were only so many hours left of my 53rd year and he was using them up, and finally I left the bank. 

Later when Coach and I were on our way to Curly's game I had a lightbulb moment. 'Wait? I went to the bank, and I remember punching in the amount of cash I wanted to withdraw from the cash station, but I never got any . . . did I?" 

I was starting to sweat. In a panic. Then I went to my trusty app and saw that I'd withdrawn $200, but the $200 was then put right back into the machine. 

Mr. Salesman distracted me and I never grabbed my money. But thank goodness the smarty pants machine re-deposited it for me instead of allowing the next customer to enjoy my moment of unclarity. 

In other news:  today Reg turns 19. NINETEEN. Wowza. In honor of my youngest son's big day, fun Reg fact:  When Reg was a toddler/preK guy, he was fierce, tougher than nails, but if it started to drizzle, even the littlest bit - he lost his mind. "Get inside, you guwys!" 

Ed would tease him and dance around on the driveway and Reg would panic, like Ed might melt. 

I always worried when he was really young that future me would be getting called to the school for his backtalk, sassy stuff. Would he fight on the playground? Because let me tell you, with 3 older brothers, he refused to put up with anyone's shit. He spoke his mind and meant it. It was hard to get mad at him, because:

1. the cute factor

2. he spoke with a lisp and sassy mouth stuff spoken in lisp-speak ends up being less threatening than intended

Have I ever shared the video of him singing Bon Jovi's Shot to the Heart as a 4 year old? If not, I'll get on that. 

Grown up Reg:  The Special Olympian from our church, who is probably close to 50 years old and who has befriended Reg, ALSO has a birthday today. Coincidence, or maybe the universe connected them on purpose. Reg is devoted to this man. Once when all his friends were in the stands at one of Curly's games, Michael waved. "Reg, I saved a seat for you." Reg walked past the student section and sat with Michael. This made me so proud.

Mini has arrived in Florence and her apartment is amazing. Yippee. I suspect she's gonna sleep 14 hours. She had a 6 hour layover and does not sleep on planes or in cars. Wait, can we really still call her Mini? I fall asleep as soon as a motorized vehicle that I'm a passenger in starts to move. 

This video clip is maybe 12 seconds?,  Curly got in trapped by opponent's defense in Tues night's game. She ends up making a bad pass to her teammate, and then once the girl dribbles down with the ball - Curly RUNS full speed, blocks the girl's shot. Her teammate gets the ball, and then she passes it down court to a girl who scores. It was a great play. Reg sent me this and I cut out the 8 other times he played it along with his commentary on how this will look good to college coaches, because she doesn't give up. He's very invested in his sister's level of play and how to make her better. It's awesome. Usually. 

Last post's mysteries will be solved next time. Have you had a sales pitch derail you? Know any tough kids who were afraid of something silly? I've not been to Florence (or maybe I was there while abroad in college?) - have you been? Things we should see if we get to visit her?

Just Another Manic Monday: Better late than never

I usually write my Monday post on Sunday. Many people focus on resolutions  this time of year, and that's not really how I roll, BUT - I think I'm gonna be less locked into:  THIS IS WHEN I POST, because you'll all be patient and show up whenever, right? 

Instead of blogging yesterday I did EVERYTHING. OK, not really, but I did a lot:  

Mini decorated this cake.
Hornet stinging a red devil.

I worked out. I packed up as much Christmas stuff as possible. I wrote part of my next chapter for my writing group. I scrubbed the master shower - long overdue/long ass task. I made an undisclosed (see:  ridiculous) amount of pasta for tonight's varsity girls basketball team pasta party. 

*******

I think there are a total of 5,
plus I did a small GF one. For the
 first time ever, someone is
treating herself right
 in the year 2025.

*Note:  Reg went back to Indiana yesterday, and I was able to send him with a 9 x 13 pan of unbaked mostaccioli. Also, Mini needs to go say good-bye to my folks before she leaves for Florence tomorrow night. She will bring them a pan of pasta this evening. I spoke to my dad Sunday, asking if Mom would agree to let me set up a haircut with my neighbor. She's cut her hair the last 2 or 3 times, but Nana keeps thinking she's gonna get an appointment with the lady who has cut her hair for years. It's not clear if she went back to Poland (or somewhere, I'm not sure) permanently or what, but only Nana has ever contacted her and the number hasn't worked in months, a year? Nana refused for me to set up a haircut with the woman who's done a lovely job the last few times. Ugh. Eventually I think she'll come around. 

While on the phone, my dad:  Hey, can you come over sometime and show Mom how to make those chicken things you got us from Costco?

Me:  Dad, I can show Mom, but she's gonna forget. I'll show both of you and you need to be the one to make them. (these are just breaded chicken strips, really simple). 

Translation:  UGH!!! WHAT ON EARTH, DAD? YOU NEED TO MAKE THE MEALS, NOT MOM.

********

Back to my list of accomplishments, if you don't mind humoring me:  I baked a cake with the girls for the party. Mini plans to decorate it today. I basically finished reorganizing my closet. It isn't perfect, but it is SO much better. I might even share photos. I plan to do a post on what I found, etc. At some point? I played ANOTHER round of Code Names with the fam before the littles went to bed. 

Our living room as packing
central. I'm not on
the organizing committee.
Just the gathering
committee. I steer clear of this
room whenever possible.

And best of all, I even squeezed in a little fun . . .  I went with Mini and Tank to see the Bob Dylan movie. (Curly was downtown seeing the Harry Potter play with her travel ball bestie). The movie was good -  not necessarily great. I would've liked to learn more about his childhood/background, or even his later years. 

I also continued to help Mini pack (MIni:  where is that one shirt? - and guess who always knows?). I dug up a few pairs of Smart Wool socks for her from my closet that still had the tags on them. I also found the small Cannon camera, charged the battery, and had Tank show Mini how to use it. 

Highly recommend this show:  Mini and I stayed up to watch the last episode of Man on the Inside. We enjoyed it so very much. It's a sweet, funny show. Quick short episodes, too. 

Who would've thought that I'd miss
 this? It ain't pretty, but it's calling to me. 

King me:  I've slept in my king size bed the last two nights. So far, the top is a little soft (not bad soft) and Coach's shaking leg (he might suffer from restless leg
syndrome, and he isn't sure if maybe it's worse right now because he is so congested/not sleeping soundly?) and snoring - which is not typical (he sometimes snores, but probably worse because he's getting over the flu) left me wishing I was still rehoused in the study. I may have been premature in stripping the pullout, etc. Hmm. 

Also, I think I ate too many chocolate kisses at the movie that I snuck in my purse. I mostly don't follow the low FODMAP thing anymore, so sometimes I thing the foods forbidden by SIBO interfere with my life. I felt fine, but that didn't mean it was easy to sleep. 

Today I got to do a workout class that I love, because Tank held down the fort. Plus it was morning nap time. I had a beautiful baby (almost 7 mos) girl start today. She shares the same IRL name with Curly, and we are already smitten. The little girls don't go back to school till tomorrow and I AM READY FOR IT. 

Mini-daycare update:  I have one 6 month old screamer, who started end of November and I'm seriously considering saying I can't care for him. 

    The parents:  'He has no chill.' 

Um, there's something wrong with him, and last I checked 'no chill' isn't a diagnosis. He needs to change formula or SOMETHING? He isn't a colicky newborn. I might lose my mind, but I'm relieved he only comes Mon/Tues. I have another family with a 1.5 year old who would gladly take the spot. I've never kicked someone out for being fussy, but fussy is an under statement. And, there's a first time for everything. Stay tuned.

I'm basically a baby whisperer - so I feel like I should be able to figure this out, but not without the parents' involvement. He doesn't even like touch. No joke, there's something OFF. And my friend Becky, who also daycares a million littles, is like YEAH, NOPE. THIS IS NOT NORMAL.

*****

I have so much more to share. Someone (not me) got stitches, a set of car keys took a trip somewhere, um - the only set for that car, and we have once again missed a zoom doc appointment for Reg's neurologist. New Year's Resolution:  I am bowing out, and will not manage these appointments any longer. As always, more later. 

How's your New Year shaping up?  Guesses on the stitches, who and how? Who left for days out of state with the only set of keys for the kid car? Bets on whether or not this is the year I lose my everlasting mind, and/or kick one cute (enormous - he's 23 lbs at 6 mos. which is what Lad and Tank were) screaming baby to the curb?

welcome to the infirmary/looney bin, where deliveries happen whenever & garbage picking isn't out of the question

Good morning. I'm keeping odd hours lately. College kids are home. I'm not babysitting. And I'm not sleeping in my new bed. Anyway, I need to get to bed soon . . . so I'll try to keep this brief. (sorry, the bullet point version of this I envisioned didn't pan out). 

Why am I not sleeping in my own bed? Coach tested positive for flu this morning. He's been sick for days, so too late for Tamiflu. 

His throat was sore on Saturday. At lunchtime on Monday, he came home and brought me a birthday salad for lunch. Then he said he had the afternoon off and wanted to take a nap. Because Mini's anxiety therapy appointment was down the street from several stores/the mall, Curly and I tagged along for her 3:00 appointment. I worked on my laptop in the car, and when Mini was done we shopped for a few things Mini needs for study abroad. It was so much fun and so productive. 

While we were out, Mini texted Coach to let him know we were heading home. He responded with:  Stop texting me. Huh? He texted me to say he wouldn't be eating with us. What now? I'm no rocket scientist, but I started to gather that he was not feeling well. 

I opted to sleep in Ed's empty twin bed, because Tank drove into the city on the 30th. He brought Ed back to his apartment, and stayed there to celebrate NYE with Ed and his friends. 

Mini has never driven on an expressway. Don't ask. None of us know how that happened. She found me where I was sleeping in the boys' bedroom at 2 am, and woke me up to let me know it was happening again. She wasn't sleeping- nervous about driving to Milwaukee for NYE, where she planned to hang with cousins. I was like, Fine, take a train. It's always solvable, now go to sleep.

I woke up earlier than I wanted and was really groggy, having not gotten much sleep after the wakeup from Mini.

I tiptoed into Germ Central my room to check my phone in the bathroom. Thank goodness, because I had a missed call from the delivery people. What? They were supposed to email me the day before to give me a delivery window. But they didn't. I even checked my spam. What on earth? Who delivers a mattress at 8:30 am without warning? 

Thank goodness, I'd spent an hour the night before shuffling stuff around in our room to make room/clear a path. There were still piles of displaced crap from my half-ass closet clean out. Plus Christmas clutter from 'Santa's workshop.'

Anyway, I kicked into high gear, relocated Coach to the family room, stripped the bed, and met the guys at the door and begged them to be quiet since I had a bunch of kids still sleeping. They leaned the new gi-normous mattress against the wall in our room, and took away our old stuff. They don't take apart bed frames and I didn't have the king size frame yet. I wasn't sure if they would bring one and I kept forgetting to research that. I finally ordered a metal king size frame late on the 29th, but it hadn't arrived yet. Coach laid on the floor all day until Reg and I could put the new frame together at like 6 pm. 

Getting the old bed apart was challenging. I ended up sending Lad to grab a king size metal frame for $15 from a FB marketplace person. But, I didn't attempt to drag it up the stairs and set it up right away, because I didn't want to make noise that might wake Mini from the nap I hoped she was taking. I'd forced her to go for a walk in the rain and take a shower before a mandated nap. 

I honestly felt like I was running some sort of home for the sick and looney. Don't make any noise. Can you get me a bedframe? Let's review how your drive straight north to your cousins' apartment. Plus I had Kay and Rae who aren't great at entertaining themselves. My head was fuzzy - I was so tired. But there was not a lot of opportunity to nap. 

Reg saved me before he left for his NYE party. He was the last kid around. Curly was sitting for one of my families, and the rest of them were out. It wasn't my favorite NYE. Kay pushed my buttons until I sent her to bed in tears. No one should push my buttons when I'm tired. 

Anyway, Reg helped me dismantle our old queen bed while Coach lay in a heap a few feet away. Then we had to clean up the dirty FB marketplace frame and we had no instructions. We figured it out. The sheets arrived midday, so I yanked them out of the dryer as we were constructing the bedframe in what has become the infirmary. And the mattress looks amazing and inviting, but I'm sleeping elsewhere again tonight. 

A NYE out and about kid woke me up by accident, and I wasn't enjoying my boy-room accommodations, so I spent half the night sleeping on the couch. I might just sleep on the couch again tonight. But dang, I'm tired. And my new mattress looks so soft and spacious. I had a flu shot. Coach never gets one. Um, I'm assuming moving forward he will get with the program, or else. All of the kids had the flu shot, because I'm realizing I'M IN CHARGE OF ALMOST EVERYTHING. 

I stood in Mini and Curly's room all evening and insisted on order and decluttering. We lost a ton of storage when we took down the doll house bunkbed. So much accomplished. It was fabulous. 

But OMG - can anyone do something without my supervision and insistence? The girls' new bed hadn't been pushed up against the wall, because Coach never removed the bunkie board. The metal bedframe (from the bottom of the doll house bunk in the girls' room) was leaning against Ed's bed and I was worried I'd bump my head on it when I got up to pee in the middle of the night (like it was leaning on it's side - who does that? for weeks?). I had boys haul the bunkie board to the basement Wed.  night, and Reg dismantled the metal, side-resting frame that he's been having to shimmy past every time he goes to his bed. 

WHY? DIDN'T ANYONE THINK TO DO THESE THINGS UNTIL I STARTED ORDERING THEM AROUND?

Oh, and Nana gave all the grandkids an envelope with $70 cash on Christmas. I brought home the envelopes in my bag for whoever didn't have pockets, etc. Curly claimed hers, but Mini's was there one day and gone the next. It disappeared. (Mini is like, Dang, Oh well. - I'm more upset than she is). Guess who dragged the garbage and recycling bins inside the house and went thru them in the kitchen? I found no envelope of cash. Could Rae or Kay have taken it? I have thoughts on that. They bounce back and forth from no chance, to why not? Ugh. While I was dragging in the enorm-o garbage bins, Coach texted from upstairs to tell me to knock it off with the loud noises. 

Not exactly how I envisioned Christmas vacation. 

Oh, in GOOD NEWS (because this post feels very whiney - in my brain I imagined it hilarious, because if there'd been a live stream camera following me the last few days, you would've died laughing) the kids are all obsessed with a game called Code names. We've played SO many times. All ages. My bio kids are being very inclusive with the little girls. Hooray for that. I'm tempted to take back all the other unopened games, because I don't think anyone will ever want to switch things up. 

*I'll add photos to this post tomorrow. It's 12:36 am and I have to scrounge around and decide where to sleep. I'm guessing Coach isn't contagious anymore, but not wanting to chance it. Have you dug through the trash for money, or something else? Did you find it? Are you the one who makes things happen in your house? Did you get your flu shot? OH, Happy New Year! 

Happy birthday to MEEEEE!!!! Random stuff with cute retro photos

Good morning, and welcome to my birthday blog post - where I have no agenda and plenty to chat about. I've been trying to decide if I should come up with a theme or connect my thoughts in some way, but Whoa - too much energy, and it's my birthday, bitches, so welcome to my disorganized thoughts:  

First, I lied to you. I know, I know . . . I hope you'll forgive me. I woke up the morning I posted about my new mattress, read all of your comments, and promptly suffered a minor panic attack. Did we really just spend almost $5K on a MATTRESS? No. Way. Who even are we? I texted Coach and said I could not justify it. 

A few decades ago, our very nice couch (like shopped at a quality store and spent real moola) fell apart prematurely and Coach told me I could feel free to take the $100 Sorry 'bout-that voucher they gave us, and buy a new couch with it, so long as I didn't spend more than the allotted $100. So Coach is not exactly one to easily part with money/know how much anything should costs. 

Translation:  he was more than happy to not be so spendy on the mattress. Although, he admitted that he was sort of sold on it because he's had some neck pain or something (when a PT complains about body aches, it doesn't really count because we all look at him like, Yeah, since your body is going with you to work tomorrow, you can just ask one of the wizards you work with to fix it).

That's me looking at the bunny - my
mom is behind me and
Marie is on my left in blue. Ann is on the
other side of our blond neighbor kid on my right.

I called the place and cancelled the mattress (Readers, are we still friends?), because if that mattress was gonna cost us an arm and a leg, while possibly making our arms and legs and backs and necks feel rejuvenated, then it was gonna have to also come with magic powers to order our closets, sort laundry, and prepare all of our meals. 

It took another couple of weeks to select a replacement to the replacement. If you're following, reward yourself with a leftover Christmas cookie. 

Every night, I'd tell Coach that I wasn't going to bed until we'd made a decision. I think I need a more believable threat. BTW:  we'd decided to just order something from Costco. If we don't like it, we'll return it within the year. We are still getting a king. I may have waffled, but I didn't completely cave. Costco mattresses are unavailable to sit on and yet people buy them, so we read a bunch of reviews and while they had a Tempurdedic that sounded a lot like what we'd ordered for half the price, I finally announced, That's it. We're getting the Beauty Rest. 

I'm 54 today, so I can use all the help in the I need more Beauty Rest department. The mattress is supposed to arrive on NYE. I haven't ordered sheets or a bedframe, so I'm totally on top of everything per usual. Check back for updates. 

And my crazy closet clean out of '24 is apparently gonna overlap into '25 and I really do want to get up there and make some headway before the delivery people get here and report us to the bedroom police for living in the most cluttered conditions ever. But first . . . 

Coach made reservations at a new to us Mexican place for dinner tonight (meaning Sunday, because that's when I'm drafting my bday post). We need to eat out tonight before Ed goes back to the city (boo hiss) on my birthday - of all the rude behaviors. Some of you may remember the disaster of the Outback Steakhouse 'non-reservation' birthday meal of a few years ago. 

Noticing a theme here?
I'm in the green hat -
 at the petting zoo again like a year later.
 Petting a bunny never gets old. My babysitter
 who is still a close family friend is sitting
 behind me in the stripes. Pat is sort of
 bald next to me and Marie
 is on my other side.

We cannot drive past that place without a kid referencing some part of that fiasco, like when we had to stand for literal hours waiting for a table and the hostess had to ask us to corral our children who were hovering over other patrons' tables most likely salivating like Pavlov's dogs. Cuz the other people, who presumably  went to that eatery knowing how sucky it would be, were made to feel uncomfortable. 

In our defense, there really was no where else to put the people in our party. By the end of the night, we were far from a party of people who were speaking to one another and the 'party' vibe died an hour before the server tipped Mini's plate when reaching across a band of brothers, accidentally dumping hot au jus in her lap and on her new purse. Anyway, it's a distant memory - thank goodness. 

Unfortunately, Lad hasn't been feeling well the last few days so I don't know that he'll be able to join us and that'll really bum me out. I wanted another opp to fake a Christmas photo. Yes, I'm the kind of mom who will make everyone put their same outfits on and stand in front of the leaning tower of Shenanigan tree for a picture. Fingers crossed I get that birthday wish. I might have to settle for our dinner out, and celebrate that it isn't tied in some way to a $20 gift card or coupon that Coach wants to use.                                                         

There she is:  the world's
worst Irish dancer. Ever. How I birthed
kids who could actually dance well
 is one of life's little mysteries.

In amazing news, Coach was sifting through our stack of gift cards before making the reservation and he said, "Wow, we have $350 at Lettuce Entertain You?!" And I heard angels sing and a weight lifted. Friends, a wonderful mom and dear friend whose kids I babysat for 5 years, gifted me $350 in Lettuce Entertain You gift cards (nice chain of restaurants in Chicago, Wildfire is my fav, it's a steak place). This was back in May on her littles' last day. 

I had convinced myself that I'd accidentally thrown the cards away, because I didn't remember putting them in the gift card basket. Did I ever check the gift card basket? No. Can I trust my memory in this my 54th year? No. Do I feel elated? You betcha. 

That's me adjusting Pat's Santa hat while
 Ann and Marie look on, waiting to correct
 me for doing it wrong, no doubt. Did you
 know that my sisters look so much alike
 my friends could never tell them apart?
They are not twins.

On my birthday, I plan to attend my fav in person workout class. Maybe I'll beg Mini to join me. If nothing else, that'll lead to some excellent blog fodder. Then my babysitting partner in crime (she and I do the same daycare thing at our own homes, join forces for fun outings, and compare notes and share laughs re: nutty parents/kids as needed) plans to take me to breakfast. I'll continue to hound Mini to organize her crap before leaving for Florence. And I hope to carve out some 'me time' to write my next chapter. 

I had plenty of time to do that today, but I procrastinated. Shame on me. I went down a FB Marketplace rabbit hole, shopping for display cases that can house Curly and Mini's Irish dancing trophies in the basement, because they literally litter every surface of their room since the shelving ripped out of the wall as a result of the tornado of '21. 

Come hill or high water, I will get this house organized and my 1st draft book finished in 2025. I guess you can say that there's my 2025 goals in a nutshell. *the closet! I must finish the CLOSET! too. (Hypothetically speaking:  if you unearthed a ton of OG nighties from when you were wed in 1996, and you haven't worn them in forevAH, would you toss them? Ahem, even if your spouse was like, Oh - HEY NOW, WHERE HAVE THOSE BEEN? I'm thinking I'll be plenty comfortable in my king size bed without them. Right?)

I briefly considered (me, brief?) writing a birthday post with a list of things I like or hate, or what my younger self would think of my 54 year old self, or fun facts you might not know about me. I went with stream of consciousness instead, so I'm asking you, my readers:  

What's a fun fact I might not know about you?  A post you think I should write (or one I've promised to write and my aging brain has forgotten)? If you've never commented before - how's about today is the day to say hello. Thanks for showing up. I always enjoy interacting with you guys. I'm grateful to have such great blog friends. I know this was long, but as my friend Kari says, It's my birthday, Bitches!